Author's note : Aaah, bad chapter, for both Sherlock, who misses John and realize some (weird ?) feelings for Molly, and for Molly who realizes that she won't ever have a better place in Sherlock's heart...well that's what she thinks ;) Hope you'll like it :)
I don't own BBC Sherlock
Greg Lestrade pulled off the seals from the old door, and he and Sherlock, Molly on his heels, downed the wooden cracky stairs. What they discovered in the underground when Greg turned the lights on, froze them for a second. There was a skeleton, wearing old victorian clothes, a writing feather in the hand behind a desk, as if he died while writing. Sherlock approached quickly the skeleton and began observing with his usual glass, then sniffing the clothes. Molly began to take some notes, but she was rather interested on how Sherlock was proceeding to find clues.
« - What is it ? she asked shyly when he seemed to have found something.
Sherlock observed something in a little glass and concentrated on it.
« - You're up on something, aren't you ? she continued, stopping her writing.
- Maybe… » he responded quickly.
Suddenly Sherlock heard John's voice in his head saying « SHOW OFF ».
« - Shut up ! he said between his teeth.
- What ? said Greg and Molly, surprised by the sudden rudeness of the detective on a case.
- Nothing ! » he said as if was normal.
And then, he kept on his observations. While observing the coat of the cadaver, Greg bowed to Sherlock and murmured to his ear in an unsure voice :
« - This is…gonna be your new way to do ?
- Just give it a try. » Sherlock said absently.
Molly observed discreetly them but when Greg looked at her she dived back into her notes.
« - Is it John ? asked Greg while the two men recovered.
- Not really in the picture anymore… » said bitterly the detective.
He ran quickly away from Greg's annoying questions to rejoin Molly and her notes. Then he noticed some dust falling from the ceiling.
« - Trains ? Molly asked.
- Trains. Sherlock confirmed.
Molly approached the corpse and began to examine it.
« - Male…, 40 to 50…, she began in an assured voice. Hum, she corrected herself, sorry, did you want to… ?
- Oh no, answered seriously Sherlock, please be my guest. »
On that, Molly continued her examination while Sherlock heard John's voice saying « JEALOUS ? ».
« - Shut UP ! » he answered out loud, giving birth to interrogative stares from Greg and Molly.
But he acted as if nothing happened, and came closer to Molly to examine apparently the same thing than her.
« - It doesn't make sense…, Molly whispered
- Wh..What doesn't…? asked Greg.
- This corpse in it, began Molly, it can't older than…
- Six months old, said Molly's and Sherlock's voices together.
Sherlock then unlocked the desk on which the corpse was writing and get an old book out from it. He blew on it to put the dust away and revealed :
« - How I did it, red Greg, by Jack the Ripper ? »
Sherlock explained in a harsh way how the fake has been made, in front of the as amazed as interrogative looks on Greg and Molly's faces. The explanation disappointed Greg because he really thought it would really be a mystery. However, Molly noticed rather the harsh way Sherlock explained the whole thing. He had not this cocky air as usual when he demonstrated his intellectual talents, he seemed annoyed and wanted to leave the place as quick as possible.
In fact Sherlock was really feeling the miss of John and Molly's presence, as reassuring as it could be, could not replace John's. He was continuously hearing his voice in his head, telling him what to do, mocking him. Without John, he wasn't sure of himself, his self-confidence was lower. And when Molly asked why would someone do such a fabrication, he gave in to his internal voices and answered by calling her John.
Molly looked at Greg but didn't reproached him his mistake. After all he had tell her…that she was « not being John » but being herself…, she wondered really what she was doing in such a place, solving murders with Sherlock Holmes… She gave a « shut up about this » look to Greg and ran after Sherlock.
« - You do miss John, don't you ? Molly asked as they were walking at a certain mister Shilcott's house. And don't just lie to me, you know you can't, she add with a little poke on the arm.
She knew physical contact, genuine physical contact, wasn't Sherlock's area, but he made a gesture toward her. He placed back a lock of her hair behind her ear and caressed a little her cheek, after putting back his hand in his pocket. Molly swallowed hard, but didn't lose her concentration. She didn't want to let Sherlock win.
« - Don't…don't play with me, she said with a shaking voice. I thought you trusted me from the beginning !
- I do, Molly, he answered in a low voice.
- So why do you keep on this flirting thing ? she continued. Does it distracts you to play with my heart ?! »
Sherlock turned to her in shock. She had never talked out loud of feelings toward him. He saw something new in Molly's eyes. Anger. Determination. No more this mousy fear. No more this shy child. He placed his right hand on her right shoulder, and stroked her skin softly, which made her hardly blushing. He couldn't admit that he wanted this physical contact for himself, because he truly liked it.
« - I'm sorry, he muttered. Here we are ! he said in a louder voice, pointing at the door. Listen carefully to the doorbell, right ? »
Molly nodded with a smile. She was angry at herself. She had let go something which was buried deep inside of her. Next time, she will keep her mouth shut.